


As Long As The Gods Give Her Breath

by bettza_99



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-22
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:13:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24326332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bettza_99/pseuds/bettza_99
Summary: For the prompt: Joanna + childrenJoanna Lannister has always tried to balance her role of lady of Casterly Rock with her role of mother. Her greatest desire is to see her children grow into the best version of themselves. But a shocking revelation threatens to shatter her hopes for the future.How couldn’t she have noticed it? Had she unknowingly allowed it or even encouraged it? She doesn’t know and that’s the worst part.
Relationships: Cersei Lannister & Joanna Lannister, Jaime Lannister & Joanna Lannister, Joanna Lannister/Tywin Lannister
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	As Long As The Gods Give Her Breath

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AmbidextrousArcher](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmbidextrousArcher/gifts).



The song of steel lures Joanna to her window. In the distance she can see the large figure of the Master-at-arms, looking over two boys clashing swords: a tall one with dark brown hair and a smaller one with golden curls whose back is turned to Joanna. The swords they use have dull edges, fit for practice, yet, the sight of them still makes Joanna nervous. Perhaps she’s being overprotective, but she can’t shake the feeling than her son is too young for steel and that he should be sticking to wooden swords. But Jaime had insisted – and the Master-at-arms had backed him – that he was ready for them, and seeing him practicing, she admits that he was right; the boy he’s fighting with is older and already a squire, and yet he’s getting bested by her son.

 _He’ll make a great knight one day._ Usually that thought makes her chest swell with pride. Instead, right now, it makes her sad and she can’t understand why. Is it because she can feel him slipping away from his mother’s arms into a world of swords and horses, jousts and mêlées, blood and sweat, a world in which his mother has no place?

It’s a somber thought, that kind of which have crossed her mind more often lately. _Is this room. I’m not made to be locked in here._ She’s used to roam the castle, giving orders and making sure they are followed through, or holding court in the audience chamber, or greeting guests in the courtyard, anything but staying in her chambers staring at the ceiling all day. She wishes terribly to go back to her routine, but the Master had been firm in his orders that she keeps to her chambers resting; for her own sake and the sake of the child she carries. _I wouldn’t be able to do much anyway,_ she thinks resigned. _My belly is so swollen that even a small walk would leave me gasping for air._

Even then, the boredom of her enclosure doesn’t weight on her as much of the loneliness does. If only her husband was at her side. But Tywin is away at King’s Landing, handling the realm in the name of a king that mistrust him more every day. At times like this she wants to ask him to renounce his post, to stay with her ruling Casterly Rock together as it’s meant to be. But she knows it’s a lost cause, that he trusts her to rule alone over their lands. As well as over their household, their family and over herself. So, she never lets her desires show on the letters she sends him regularly, and resigns herself to keep missing her son and her husband.

At least she has her daughter. Her Cersei comes to visit her every day and Joanna tries to teach her the business of being a lady. It was easier before, when she could teach her by example – she would go about her duties with her daughter trailing behind, following her mother into a world of dresses and ornaments, balls and drawing room gatherings, courtesies and good manners, and blood and sweat too, but of a different kind. She would set a small chair besides her High Seat so Cersei could accompany her while she listened to the petitioners that came to the Rock. She would announce her verdicts and explained the reasoning behind them to the girl, who was quick to understand. The memory of her daughter sitting next to her – her back straight and chin up, trying to look imposing at eight years old – brings a smile to Joanna’s face. _She will make a fine lady one day._

Or a queen. Tywin hasn’t said it yet, but Joanna is not blind to her husband’s ambition. She knows he would like to see his daughter wed to young prince Rhaegar, and one day his grandson on the Iron Throne. It was that type of ambition that draw her to him in the first place; that impulse of climbing higher and having the guts and the cunning to reach the top. It was his ambition that brought back the prestige of their house after Lord Tytos made them the laughing stock of the realm. But Joanna worries that her husband might be overreaching. For another King, a daughter of House Lannister would make a fine match for the Prince of Dragonstone, but is Aerys they are talking about – capricious, envious, prideful Aerys – who would likely reject the alliance just to slight her husband, as he so delights in doing.

She can’t forget how he humiliated her at the Anniversary Tourney. Remembering it still makes her teeth grind. He had asked her (with his wine-stinking breath) if giving suck to her twins had ruined her breasts, “which were so high and proud.“ Tywin was so angry that he presented his renounce, but the King refused to accept it. And, to Joanna’s frustration, he stayed in his post to this day. But she knows he hasn’t forgotten either, not that nor any other slight. He remembers them all and will remember to pay them back twofold. _A Lannister always pays his debts._

Yet, even knowing that, to think of her daughter being in the vicinity of that man sickens her. A crown is no less than Cersei deserves, but if to have it she must go to the wolf’s den, then Joanna would prefer that she stayed crownless in Casterly Rock forever.

Crown in her future of not, there’s still a lot that she must teach Cersei, and it seems she should start with how to keep one’s temper. She’s pleasantly surprised when the groom announces – hours before she expected them – that Cersei and her Septa request entrance to my lady’s chamber for their daily visit. Her smile disappears, however, when Septa Lynora enters her chamber with a sour expression, carrying her daughter by the wrist, who looks at the septa as if she wants to grind her to sand. _Oh, now what?_

"My lady, forgive me for bothering you by coming here early. But I’m afraid your daughter needs to be disciplined.”

“And why don’t you discipline her yourself, septa?” Joanna asks, irritated. “Isn’t that your job?”

“I…” Septa Lynora seems to lose her voice. And Joanna catches Cersei trying to hide her smile at the older woman’s plight.

“What did she do?” Joanna nods at Cersei who immediately loses her glee.

“She pushed Ella Marbrand into a mud puddle,” the septa replies. Ella Marbrand was the newest of Cersei’s companions. She and her brother Addam had arrived at Casterly Rock barely a fortnight earlier. And while his brother (who served as a page) and Jaime had become fast friends, she and Cersei were having more of a rough start.

“She deserved it!” Cersei stomps her feet in the ground. “She was being such a pretentious moron.” Her daughter then goes on a long rant about the girl; how she’d been bragging all day about the things she’d brought with her from Ashemark: fine dresses, rare jewelry, exquisite perfumes, and so on and so forth. She also presumed of her relatives; their position at court, their ancient and exalted lineage, and their connections with other Houses. Especially with the Lannister themselves. Who could forget that lord Tywin’s mother was born a Marbrand? “She even said that we should strengthen the ties between our families by having the heir of Casterly Rock married to a Marbrand again,” Cersei sounds outraged. “She meant she should marry Jaime!” she crinkles her nose at the idea.

Joanna lets her rant, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Petty fights between girls were the least of her concerns. And really, her daughter should learn to ignore silly comments from a girl who clearly has more ambition than brain.

“And you know what else she said?” Cersei doesn’t seem to notice her mother’s lack of interest and continues unrestrained. “She said that father seems to be getting too full of himself, thinking he is the king instead of Aerys. That, as capable as he is, someone needs to remind him that he is really just a servant to the Iron Throne.”

“She said that?” That does piques Joanna’s interest. The words of a child are of little importance, but children often repeat the words of their elders. House Marbrand had been a loyal vassal to the Lannister in the past, but loyalties could change like the weather. She makes a mental note to mention it to Tywin in her next letter. “Did she mentioned hearing that from someone else?”

“Yes, she said she heard it from her cousin who lives at court, and that many others agree. Such a liar.” She lets out a huff. “That was when I pushed her into the mud.”

Joanna can’t help feeling a certain pride at her daughter’s fierceness in defending her father – a true lioness – but she knows she can’t let that behavior carry on.

“You are a lady, Cersei. You can’t toss your friends in the mud. No matter what they say”

“She’s not my friend! She’s a horrid little airhead. I don’t like her at all, can’t you send her home?” Joanna knows her daughter is truly upset, but her little pout is rather adorable. It does a lot to ease her annoyance at her childishness. _After all, she **is** a child. She just needs to be taught better._

Joanna asks the septa to leave them alone and gestures Cersei to sit next to her.

“I cannot send her home; it would be considered an insult by the Marbrands.” She explains calmly. “Furthermore, there’s something you need to understand: whether you like her or not plays no role in her being your companion.” Cersei starts to protest that, but Joanna carries on, “She is your lady because is critical for our House that we foster good relationships with our vassals. Is important that you are her friend, or at least that you’re cordial to her. Chances are, you will know ladies that you like even less than Ella Marbrand, but you must always be courteous no matter what. You, my love, are a daughter of House Lannister. You carry our reputation on your shoulders. You must never lower to the level of any ‘little airhead’, understand?”

“I guess…” Cersei admits reluctantly.

“And more importantly,” Joanna continues, “The maidens that you befriend today will one day become the wives of your brother’s Bannermen and the mothers to their heirs, and they will have influence over their husbands and sons. You will find that the connections you form now will come very handy once you’ve grown.” She thinks of her friend the Princess of Dorne; how they had met as young girls serving as ladies to princess Raella, and how beneficial that connection was turning out to be. Tywin isn’t the only one who has plans for their children’s future. “So, you must make peace with Ella Marbrand.”

“But mother…”

“No buts. You will apologize to her before the day is done. That’s an order, Cersei.”

Her daughter’s jaw clenches tightly for a moment before begrudgingly saying: “Yes, mother.” 

“Good girl.” Joanna runs her fingers through Cersei’s golden locks, but she stays stiff, unacknowledging her mother’s caress. “I know you’ll become a great lady. You’ll make your father proud.” That manages to bring a smile to her lips, and she lets Joanna pull her closer and place her arm around her. “Now, tell me what else happened to you today.”

Cersei leans her head upon Joanna’s shoulder and begins describing her lessons with the Maester, her horse ride through Lannisport, her games with Jaime, and all her other activities, while Joanna listens attentively and feels glad that her daughter’s life is full of joy and innocence, where the only thing that can bother her are petty fights with other girls than can be easily resolved. Spending those moments with her daughter, talking and laughing with her, is enough to wash away the gloomy mood that had taken over her earlier. She bids goodbye to Cersei for the afternoon with a kiss in her forehead and an exhortation to apologize to Ella Marbrand before the day is done.

Alone again, Joanna rests upon her comfiest couch and begins going through the account books that the Steward had left her. Then, a sudden drowsiness assails her, the numbers begin to blend before her eyes and her eyelids close on their own accord.

A tapping on her door awakes her. She doesn’t know how long she slept, but a quick look at the window reveals her that is beginning to dusk. She allows the caller to enter, and it’s the groom, who announce her that Septa Lynora once again request entrance in her chambers.

Joanna’s first thought is that Cersei’s apology must not have gone as well as she had expected. The septa’s face is ashen and somehow seems more winkled than earlier (something Joanna wouldn’t have thought possible). But the girl who accompanies her is not Cersei. Rather, is a scrawny girl who wears a handmaid’s attire. She’s casting nervous glances upon every place in the room except for Joanna’s face.

“My lady, forgive me for bothering you again,” begins the old septa. “But there’s a grave matter that I must inform you of.” She beckons the reluctant girl to stand next to her and continues: “This maid came to speak to me about something she saw today.” Septa Lynora swallows audibly as she struggles with her speech. “She says that she surprised my lady’s twins doing some… unspeakable acts.”

 _Unspeakable acts?_ Joanna knows that the septa has an inclination to dramatics and might use that term for any childish misdeed. But something tells her that wherever Jaime and Cersei were doing was grave indeed. Though she cannot imagine what it could have been. “What did she saw them do?”

“It’s better if you explain it yourself,” Septa Lynora tells the girl who answers her with a look of dismay. “Speak, child,” the Septa commands the servant, and speak she does… 

Joanna listens incredulous to the girl’s tell. Her mind struggles to even imagine it. _Cersei and Jaime… But they are just children… No, they couldn’t have been doing that… Impossible, no!…_

After the servant finishes speaking, Joanna stays sitting there, unmoving, staring at the distance. After a few uncomfortable moments, Septa Lynora clears her throat and inquires, “My lady, are you all right?”

Joanna turns her eyes to the older woman. “Do you believe this? Did you speak to them?” her voice is taunt.

“I did speak to them, my lady,” the septa replies, while fidgeting with her woven belt. “They denied it at first, but I saw the fault in their faces, especially in young Jaime’s. It was only after I promised that I wouldn’t tell you that they confessed,” she looks into Joanna’s eyes. “Their confession matched this handmaid’s story. It’s true.”

 _It’s true. It’s true. It’s true._ Those words keep echoing in Joanna’s head as the world begins to whirl around her. Shock, horror and disgust battle for dominance inside of her. Her stomach flips. She gets up abruptly – startling the two other women – and staggers to reach the chamber pot at the side of her bed. She falls heavily to her knees and empties her stomach into the pot.

“My lady!” she hears the septa shriek, and a moment later she feels someone sinking next to her and holding her shoulders, and someone else holding her hair back from her face. Joanna’s stomach keeps on contracting violently and choking her with vomit until everything is finally out.

When she’s able to breathe again, she looks to her right and sees that is the girl who is holding her. Joanna shakes her hands off and turns her eyes away. She can’t even look at her; that dark raven, bringer of dark words. Her eyes swarm up with tears. “Leave,” she orders. She once told Cersei that tears were a woman’s weapons, but she doesn’t feel protected by them now. In fact, she only feels the humiliation of being seen so vulnerable. “The two of you, leave now!”

The girl doesn’t need to be told twice, she rises from the floor and after curtsying practically runs out of the room. The septa stays where she is, thought. “My lady, shouldn’t I call the Maester? You’re not well…”

“No!” She can’t stand someone else seeing her like this. “Just leave me alone!” After a final look of concern, Septa Lynora curtsies and turns to leave as well. “Wait!” Joanna stops her right before she closes the door. “The children. You must separate them. Place Jaime’s room far from Cersei’s.” The septa nods and finally leaves.

Even after they had left the nursery, the twins couldn’t stand to be apart. So, Joanna had placed their rooms across from each other, and they had the custom of staying in each other’s bed at night. And she had allowed that, thinking they were still too young for it to be inappropriate. She feels sick thinking about it.

Her twins. Her precious babies. They had always been so alike that only their clothes told them apart. Together everywhere they went. Seeming to understand each other without the need of words. Their connection had always seemed so sweet to Joanna. She’d been glad that, despite their difference in gender and personality, they always got along so well.

Now, she didn’t know what to think. How couldn’t she have noticed it? Had she unknowingly allowed it or even encouraged it? She doesn’t know and that’s the worst part. This revelation makes her doubt herself and her motherhood at the worst possible time: when she’s about to bring another child into the world.

Joanna stays curled up on the floor of her chambers, pressing her head against the side of her bed as the sobs bust up through her throat. A long while after, when her crying has subdued, she gets up with great difficulty and sits upon the bed, drying her tear-stained face. Her breakdown passed; she takes a decision. She couldn’t prevent what happened, but she can still fix it.

It’s past sunset when she has the maid brought back to her presence. Joanna is the image of composure and pose as she politely thanks her for her services to house Lannister, and informs her that said services will be no longer needed. The girl protests at losing her job, saying she has done nothing to deserve being dismissed, that she was only warning m’lady of what she saw. Joanna interrupts her; she doesn’t want to hear again about what the girl had seen. She would rather forget that she ever heard it.

She hands the maid a leather pouch. The girl opens it; there’s a pause and then her lips curl at its content.

Joanna hates that smile. She imagines the wench in a filthy tavern, presuming of her gold, telling everyone within an earshot how the Lady of Casterly Rock had given it to her to keep her children’s dirty secrets.

She yanks the maid’s arm and lowers her to her face. The girl cries out as Joanna’s nails dig into her flesh.

“You won’t say a word of it,” she orders. “You understand? Not a word, or I will have your head!”

“Y-yes m’lady,” the girl’s eyes are wide with terror. “I won’t say anything.”

Joanna lets her go and the girl scurries off the room without looking back.

When she’s alone again, Joanna shrinks in her chair with a sigh, it has been a long day and she feels dreadfully tired. What she wants more in the world right now is to lay in her coverts and sleep – hopefully she will awake to find out that it has all been a nightmare – but there’s still something she must do before the night is over.

Joanna makes her way to Cersei’s chambers; a guard has been posted at her door to make sure her twin doesn’t get in or – more likely – that she gets out. Inside, it looks as if a tornado has rampaged the room. Tables have been turned and curtains have been ripped, the articles of Cersei’s vanity have been tossed around and her garments sprawled across the floor. Even her favorite dolls have not survived her fit. Finding nothing else to target her anger at, Cersei finally resigned to sit by her window, frowning at the glass as if trying to break it with the sheer force of her glare. Septa Lynora is standing at her side chastising her, but Cersei simply ignores her. Until she sees Joanna’s reflection in the glass and rushes to her.

“Mother!” She tries to wrap her little arms around Joanna’s middle, – something made difficult by her protruding belly – sure that her salvation has finally arrived. “Mother, Septa Lynora has looked me in my room. She doesn’t want to let me see Jaime. Mother, tell her to let me out.”

But she is left cold when Joanna doesn’t immediately return her embrace to comfort her, bad mouthing the Septa for mistreating her child. Instead Joanna looks hard at her and crosses her arms. “Septa Lynora has only done what I order her to do.”

Cersei steps back as if she’s been struck. “But, why?” she whines outraged.

“Don’t play fool, Cersei. You know exactly why.”

“I’ve been trying to lecture her on the grievous sin she has committed,” Septa Lynora intervenes. “But she resorted to storm her room in a rage, as my Lady can see,” she gestures at the surrounding mess. “Even when I told her that we could pray for her forgiveness…”

“I don’t need to pray for forgiveness, you old hag!” Cersei snaps. “I already told you, we did nothing wrong!”

“That’s not what the servant girl saw. Nor what you admitted to Septa Lynora earlier.”

“I lied, mother. Septa Lynora was yelling at me to admit to whatever that girl said she saw. I got scared. I only said what she wanted me to say.” With her watery eyes and lip trembling, Cersei is rather convincing. Joanna wants to believe her, but she knows her daughter; Cersei has sufficient stubbornness in her to look at the blue sky and claim it is green. She can’t have suddenly become so afraid of her Septa – who never had much power to intimidate her before – that she would admit to something she hadn’t done.

“Really?” Joanna asks in a sarcasm-soaked voice. “Or was it that you believed the Septa’s words that she wouldn’t tell your mother if you admitted to her what you did?”

“N-no, mother,” Cersei stutters. “She said that? She lied to you. They both did.”

“So, everyone always lies except for you, Cersei. Is that’s how it is?”

“Yes! I mean, no. I mean…” she’s babbling in a way she rarely does. Except when she knows she has been caught.

“And tell me, why Septa Lynora would want to inculpate you with something like this?” Joanna can feel the anger building up inside her, forming a tight burning ball in her guts. But she wills herself to keep her voice calm. She doesn’t want to scream at her child. She only wants the truth. “What will she gain from it?”

“I-I don’t know. Why don’t you ask her? She’s…”

“Enough!” Joanna snaps and immediately regrets it when Cersei recoils from her. She breathes deeply and says evenly: “Cersei, you already are in a serious problem. If you don’t want to make it worse, you must be honest. Don’t try to deviate from the subject or blame others. Just tell me the full truth.”

Her daughter stays quiet, her face turning pink and her eyes cast down, unable to bear the burden of her mother’s stare.

“Won’t you say anything?” there’s an edge of desperation in Joanna voice. Because she truly wants Cersei to deny what she’s been accused of, and for her denial to make sense, so she can believe her. She wants none of this to be true. But Cersei is silent as a grave. Joanna sights again, “Very well, since you won’t speak to me, I will go. I’ll come back tomorrow and see if you’re willing to tell the truth. You are not allowed to leave your chambers till then.”

Cersei’s rage reawakens: “That’s not fair!” tears of frustration start to stream down her flushed cheeks. “Why don’t you believe me, mother? That serving wench lied to you. We did nothing wrong!”

Joanna is not listening anymore. She turns back and leaves the chambers without another word. Once outside, she begins her trek to the other end of the Rock, where her son has been housed. She has to stop several times on the way to catch her breath and give some relief to her swollen feet that makes every step feel like she’s walking on spikes. After what feels like an eternity, she reaches her son’s door.

Unlike his sister, Jaime receives her without objection. He doesn’t say much, and keeps his head lowered, seemingly unable to meet his mother’s eyes. Seeing him thus makes Joanna’s heart ache even more than Cersei’s harsh words, for she sees an admission of guilt.

“Jaime, look at me,” she keeps her tone calm, but firm, she wants him to know she’s not there to scream and rage at him. Her son looks up tentatively from beneath his eyelashes. “I’m going to ask you a question and I want you to be fully honest with me. Were you and Cersei doing what that maid said she saw you do?”

Jaime averts his eyes again and nods. “But we were just playing,” he explains. “We saw the dogs in the kennels doing it, and the horses too. We were trying to imitate them, and it felt good, so…”

“Those aren’t games, Jaime.” Although she feels relieved to hear him describing it as such. They were just children plays; misguided, but innocent. Not the unnatural sinful tendencies that Septa Lynora had made them out to be. _They are children; they just need to be taught better._ “You are not dogs or horses. Children should never do those things, especially if they are siblings.”

“W-we didn’t know that,” he murmurs meekly.

“I believe you,” she says, and Jaime sights relieved. “But, remember what your father said to you the last time you saw him?”

“He said that I was the Lord of Casterly Rock in his absence, and that I had to protect my mother and sister,” he recalls solemnly.

“Precisely. But you did the exact opposite of that today.” Confusion and dismay are plain in Jaime’s face. He knew that he had done wrong, but he hadn’t realized how he had failed his father. “If these were to be known, her reputation would be ruined. She wouldn’t be able to find a good husband.”

“Does she have to get married?”

“Yes,” Joanna’s tone leaves no room for debate. She remembers Cersei’s outrage at the idea of Jaime marring Ella Marbrand; it doesn’t seem so innocent anymore. “It’s inevitable. When she’s of age, she will marry and start a family. And so will you. Or would you have your sister be a spinster?” She makes it sound like a fate worse than death.

Jaime shakes his head. “No, I don’t want that.” His lip trembles and tears began to flow from his emerald eyes. “I’m sorry,” he sobs.

“I forgive you.” Joanna draws her handkerchief and wipes away her son’s tears. “Wrongs done in ignorance can be forgiven. As long as you don’t repeat them. Listen, I know you love your sister. I understand that you feel like you’re two parts of a whole. It makes sense; you’ve been together since before you were born. But there are things that you cannot share with her. Your bond has a limit, and today you have crossed it.” She gently lifts Jaime’s chin with her hand, looking him straight in the eyes. “Promise me, Jaime, that you will never do that again. Or I will have no choice but to tell your father.”

“I promise,” he’s so serious when he says it that Joanna believes him whole-heartily. She draws him to her arms, tucking him under her chin. She begins to rock him gently, letting the warmth of his body permeate her own, overturning all the doubts and fears that besiege her. She feels assured again.

_Jaime will be a great knight one day. Cersei will be a great lady. And the child that is coming will follow their lead._

As long as the Gods give her breath, she’ll make sure of that.


End file.
